


phantasmagoria

by astynome



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Haikyuu - Freeform, M/M, Spoilers, but it is, haikyuu!! - Freeform, hq!!, iwaoi - Freeform, love this for me ok anyway, so i blame them, so maybe i dipped into this because of iwaoi stans on my tl, the way its not even iwaoi week but here i am, this is not the iwaoi fic you think it is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24105112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astynome/pseuds/astynome
Summary: phantasmagorical;↘  something with a dreamlike, fantastical, unreal, deceptive, or shifting appearance, like an optical illusion↘ oikawa tooru's birthday is memorable for all the wrong reasons. maybe this year iwaizumi hajime can  finally find solace.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 4





	1. JULY 16TH

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiii!! i dipped into iwaoi angst but to be fair this idea has been sitting in my head for quite a while. i hope you enjoy this short lil fic!!

“It’s my birthday in four days, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa Tooru practically sings, as he swings around the lamp post like Gene Kelly in _Singin in the Rain_ , which is coincidentally his favorite movie.

“So don’t you forget!” he points out, now standing near Hajime, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pursed into a thin line of annoyance. Hajime chuckles a little; Oikawa’s antics may be silly and even childish in some aspects, but he can’t help but admit that it’s cute to see and that it brings a sense of fluttery warmth within him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hajime replies, dismissing it entirely, despite the tiny smile that’s crept its way to his face. “Kinda hard to forget when you’re literally rubbing it in my face every single day.”  
Oikawa grins, the same cheesy grin he always has whenever he’s about to say something completely stupid.

“That’s not the only thing I can rub, Iwa-chan~” Oikawa gives him a suggestive wink. Hajime rolls his eyes at him, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets as he continues to walk down the street, his best friend practically skipping after him.

“Iwa-chan, don’t leave me behind!” Oikawa yells after him, now running to catch up with Hajime’s larger strides. He lets out a soft grunt in surprise as Oikawa now tackles into him from behind, arms coming over Hajime’s shoulders and pulling him down to the ground. 

Hajime is cursing under his breath as Oikawa breaks into sweet and pure laughter, his entire body shaking. He gets to his feet, dusting off his knees as Hajime gives him a dirty look, grudgingly taking the offered hand Oikawa gives him. 

“Can’t you at least warn me before you do something like that?” Hajime hisses, as Oikawa links arms with him now, resting his head on Hajime’s shoulder. 

“Then the surprise element will be gone, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa replies, looking at him blankly. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“I could have broken a bone!” Hajime snarls, giving him a dirty look. “And you would have damaged your knee even more, Shittykawa.”  
  


Oikawa barks with laughter now, throwing his head back in unadulterated glee. “Iwa-chan! Just because you’re so much stronger than me does _not_ mean you’ll be able to make me into a cripple,” he wheezes, ruffling Hajime’s already messy hair. “You’re so funny.”

“Well, at least I can make you laugh. Your jokes seem to never have any comedic value in them,” Hajime replies, looking at Oikawa directly. “No, correction. There is nothing comedic about anything that you say or do. It’s just a big flop.” He gives him a small smile as Oikawa’s back to his usual annoyed face, furrowing his eyebrows in irritation.

“You’re so mean, Iwa-chan!”  
  


“Thank goodness no one was around to see that,” Hajime says, completely ignoring Oikawa’s outburst. The other boy balls his free hand into a tight fist, obviously dejected at his dismissal. “That would’ve been embarrassing.”  
  
“Iwa-chan, you’re embarrassing,” Oikawa snaps, as Hajime gives him a large grin, his cheeks flushing a light pink regardless. 

They continue to walk, Hajime’s pace slowing down as they reach Oikawa’s lane. Despite living in the same neighborhood, they weren’t on the same block, much to Hajime’s disappointment (not like that’s something he’d admit out loud).

“We’re here,” Hajime announces, stopping just outside of Oikawa’s gate. The area is silent, save for the rustling of the wind chimes in the soft autumn breeze that blows this late at night. 

Reluctantly, Oikawa unlinks his arm from Hajime’s, pouting a little. It’s partially cloudy, with the moon being discreetly hidden between tufts of dark grey. Its light still manages to filter through, and it's this light that lights up Oikawa’s whole aura, outlining his figure in a pale silver that glints softly. His usually tamed brown hair is now slightly windswept, a couple of stray strands tickling the edges of his nose and cheekbones. 

“Are we still on for that ice-cream place tomorrow?” Oikawa asks, not looking at Hajime anymore. His eyes are on his shoes, which shuffle back and forth in an anticipated manner, as though he fears Hajime’s answer.

Hajime gives him a comforting grin, kissing his cheek softly as he does so. “Yeah. I’ll pick you up in the evening,” he replies, and Oikawa looks up from his shoes and at Hajime, his dark eyes shining with excitement.

“Great! You better not be late, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa exclaims, before pressing his lips to Hajime’s cheek in an airy kiss. 

It’s light and fluttery, like when a butterfly lands on your nose for a few brief moments. And in those few brief moments, Hajime can feel his heart race, can feel his body warm up at the closeness of Oikawa’s body to his, can feel his cheeks turn a darker shade of pink when Oikawa kisses him. Just like when Oikawa had kissed him all those years ago.

“See you tomorrow, Oikawa,” Hajime says, just as Oikawa’s lips leave his skin and the other boy turns to enter into his compound, pushing the iron gate open with a smile.

“See ya tomorrow, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa chirps, as Hajime turns around the corner, waving slightly. But there’s no wave back, no sound of the gate clanging against its lock. Just the soft rustle of the wind chimes that Oikawa’s mother had hung up on the front door, whose sweet melody rings in the air, like a distant call for someone who’s come back home. 

The moon comes out fully now, the dark grey tufts of cloud from before pushed back to let it through. Crickets that are hidden in the municipality-catered for bushes chirp softly, as in greeting to the light of the moon. It’s an empty scene, one that feels hollow and devoid of any emotion, like something from a horror film.

But despite looking so morbid and death-like, the chills Hajime feels from the cool night air steady the angry storm that rages inside him, one that washes up all emotional and spiritual stability he’s harbored through the years.


	2. JULY 17TH

“Iwa-chan, your sundae’s melting,” Oikawa points out, pushing around the sloppy mess of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry lumps in his boyfriend’s bowl absentmindedly with his spoon. “That’s not going to taste good.”

The evening sun is warm, but not too warm that Hajime can feel its usual sweltering heat. Oikawa is seated before him, dressed casually in a light grey sweatshirt and dark, faded jeans. His legs are crossed, one over the other as his right foot dangles in the air freely.

The ice-cream parlor they’re at is sparsely packed, despite it nearly being the weekend. There are a few high schoolers here; Iwaizumi can recognize them from their uniforms thanks to various practice matches held during his own time as a student.

“That’s okay, I’m not that hungry anyway,” Hajime says off-handedly, as Oikawa continues to swirl the multicolored mixture around with his dessert spoon, delighting himself in the kaleidoscope of colors that emerges before looking disgusted at the final outcome. 

He looks up from his mess at Hajime with concern in his eyes. “Are you sure, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa inquires, cocking his head to the side. “We can get something else if you like-”

“Nah, I’m good,” Hajime interjects, giving him a reassuring smile. “Trust me on this.”

Oikawa’s forehead wrinkles in response as he leans in. “Iwa-chan, this isn’t a life or death situation, this is about ice-cream,” Oikawa quips, his nose wrinkling a little as well. “If you wanna get something else we can-”   
  


“Idiotkawa, I said I’m  _ fine _ ,” Hajime snaps, making Oikawa recoil a bit, but his boyfriend’s expression never flinches, never changes. 

Oikawa’s stubbornness is quite frankly one of his most defining features, as Hajime’s always noticed (but never goes as far as to say it out loud). There’s something about the way he riles up at the slightest mention of competition, how far he’s willing to go to achieve whatever it is he has his mind set on. It’s an admirable trait, but it can be annoying at times.

Oikawa leans back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest with a huff as he does so. “Don’t come to my house and eat all the food my mom’s prepared for me,” he sneers, giving Hajime a dirty look.

“That has never happened,” Hajime coolly replies, giving Oikawa a small smile.

“Has to! You’ve eaten too much food that’s meant for me!”

“Absolutely not, Greedykawa.”

“Stop making up new names for me!”

Oikawa’s looking away from Hajime now, a sour expression on his face. The sun is beginning to set, the sky turning a beautiful mix of oranges, yellows, and purples. Up high, Hajime can make out the tiny white pinpricks of stars that are slowly beginning to shine in the twilight sky. 

The ice-cream parlor is slowly gaining more and more patrons. There are couples filling up the previously empty tables, as families and some more students mill around the surroundings, chatting amongst themselves excitedly.

“It’s going to start soon,” Hajime comments, as Oikawa impatiently checks his watch every five seconds. “Just wait a little.”

“It’s usually never this long,” Oikawa complains, the sour expression on his face souring even more. “They started it just when the sun was a few meters above the horizon last year. What’s taking them so long today?”

Hajime doesn’t reply, but shakes his head in annoyance. Oikawa shuffles in his seat, agitated.

He’s about to launch into another complaint when a loud crash is heard in the sky, followed by an explosion of red and gold across the sky. Hajime watches with gentle eyes as Oikawa’s sourness sweetens itself; his face relaxes and his eyes seem to smile at the colorful display before him.

The fireworks continue, bursts of a myriad of colors that bring forth “ooh”s and “ah”s from the crowds below. There’s green, gold and purple, and sometimes the occasional teal, which makes Oikawa’s smile larger and larger, and he’ll occasionally point it out to Hajime with an excited giggle.

But Hajime doesn’t have his eyes on the display before him. He’s seen it multiple times before, has the entire set memorized that he can see it play out in his sleep if he wants to. It’s quite a simple yet fascinating progression of colors, but it’s nothing compared to the blissful joy that explodes across Oikawa’s face with every burst of light in the sky.

The fireworks display ends soon, with appreciative applause echoing all around them as its finale. Hajime’s sight goes from Oikawa’s wonderstruck face to the now-melted sundae before him, which is a large puddle of brown, yellow, and pink. His eyes go back to the sun, which is now a few inches away from sinking into the horizon. The sky is now painted a deep indigo, with slight strands of pink reaching from the sun’s edge into the night sky.

Twilight is fast approaching, Hajime notes, when he sees more white dots appear in the sky, gleaming brightly against the dark backdrop.

“That was prettier than last year,” Oikawa says softly, his mellow voice cutting through Hajime’s wall of thoughts. “It’s the same display but it was prettier. I can’t explain how.” Hajime looks at him, slightly confused. But Oikawa’s warm brown eyes are that of a gentleness and sincerity Hajime hasn’t seen in a while.

“It lasted three minutes!” Oikawa points out with glee, gesturing to the time on Hajime’s phone. “Which is the exact number of days until my birthday! You better be getting me a gift, Iwa-chan!”

“I’m not going to say anything because your hopes will just go up,” Hajime grumbles, settling back into his chair as Oikawa gives him a larger than life smile. “And you’re annoying when you do that.”   
  


_ That’s a lie; it’s really cute when he’s being whiny. But I’m not going to boost his ego.  _

“So mean, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whines, his childish grin turning into a complacent pout.    
“Someone has to be.”

Oikawa settles back into his seat with a huff, the sour expression from before coming back to take up residency on his face. It makes Hajime chuckle; it’s truly a sight to see when he’s in one of his moods.

They sit in comfortable silence for a while, Oikawa looking around at the families that have gathered there, placing orders for ice-creams and other various sweet treats. Hajime can see him visibly twitching in his seat, itching for something sweet.

Hajime’s about to call out to the waiter to place an order for Oikawa when a woman approaches him. She looks like a mother, given the tired eyes and larger than life stress lines that are indented into the skin of her forehead. She seems exhausted beyond words, but she still manages to give Hajime a warm smile.

“Is this seat taken?” she asks in a soft voice, before whipping her head back to yell something at one of her kids, who’s messing around with her bag.

Hajime looks at the chair before him, now empty of Oikawa’s presence. There’s nothing there that remains to tell that he had been there before, except for the lingering scent of baby powder.

Hajime didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“No,” he says, choking on his own voice and hoping that she didn’t notice. “No it’s not taken, you can have it.” He gives her a comforting smile despite the sob that threatens to break out from his throat.

Her eyes turn up into a satisfied smile, and she murmurs her thanks as she takes the chair back to her own table. Hajime watches as she scolds her child one more time before making him sit in the chair, muttering something to herself inaudibly.

The sun has disappeared below the horizon, the last few remaining strands of pink light going below with it. The moon has come out, fully lit up and shining brightly down on them. Yet with the comforting warmth the moonlight gives, it does not take away the coldness Hajime feels inside his own aching heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh oop. maybe i am an angsty iwaoi stan
> 
> follow me on twt: MILKBREADFAERIE


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